Week 8

Her phone jingled a tune, one that was familiar. It was only a text message. She would check it after she finished painting this last corner of the red wall.
She checked her blackberry. It was brand new, so she didn’t have any contacts. Just a number would show up when someone was calling or sending a text. It read; Get here fast, Dad hung himself!
She went back to painting. It must have been a wrong number. She didn’t recognize it, and her Dad was too strong to ever even think about something like that. Maybe it was a joke, but who would play a joke like that? She re-checked her phone. She ran down stairs as fast as possible, and compared the number from the text message to her old phone and the numbers of her brother’s. It was from her oldest sibling. She tried to call back. No answer. It was real. She knew in her heart, it was real. She panicked. She walked fast around in circles for a few minutes, into the kitchen, back around to the living room, the dining room, and the bathroom until she finally snapped out of it. She wanted to drive as fast as she could to her father’s home, but she couldn’t. Her five year old was sleeping. She couldn’t leave him here, but she couldn’t take him either. This would scar him for the rest of his life.
She got control of herself for a moment and called her mother. She would know what to do. Her parents weren’t together anymore, she was re-married, but being married for 18 years they had remained friends and had never fought. They had just realized they were better friends than lovers.
The girl ran out the French doors to the backyard, trying to hide behind the tree in case the Riley awoke. She had slammed the door harder than she had liked, but she must not have awoken Riley, because he was nowhere to be seen. Someone answered. Not her Mom. She shakily asked for her mother. Everyone at the nursing home knew who she was. Her Mom was a well respected woman where she worked. She finally answered. The girl blurted out what had happened. She talked too fast. Her Mom didn’t understand. She tried to explain it again, but it finally sunk it. Her father was dead. It was HER father. He was dead. She told the story in hysterics. Her mother agreed to meet her at her fathers house as soon as she could find a replacement. She couldn’t leave the nursing home until then, even in an emergency. She was the charge nurse, so she would receive abandonment charges, and most likely get fired. Good law, it seemed so stupid at the moment. The girl hung up the phone.
　She still needed to find someone to watch her son. She called numbers, anyone that she could remember. Only the numbers she remembered off of the top of her head though, considering her new phone was number-less. She called until she finally reached her step sister. She would be down in a few minutes to get him. She was only up the road visiting her parents anyways. She still had “parents”, and the girl was jealous. She was jealous of anyone with a father. Her father was one of her best friends. One of the smartest people she knew. If she needed advice, help with homework, or wise words of wisdom she knew who to go to. That no longer existed though. What would she do?
At this time, her son peaked his head out the door. He had awoken from his nap. He instantly knew something was wrong. His Mom never acted this way. She was always happy-go-lucky. She rarely ever cried, and never acted nervous and or like anxiety had taken over.
He began to cry. “What’s wrong Mumma?”
The girl had to think quick. She couldn’t tell her son what had actually happened. He wouldn’t understand and it would make him hysterical and not want to be left with a sitter. He was only little, even if she did explain the real reasoning for her shear panic, he wouldn’t comprehend, and it would do more harm, than good.
“Oh honey, Mum is okay. She’s just having a rough day. You know how sometimes are sad and want to hang out with Mum all day instead of going to school? Well, Mum doesn’t want to go to class tonight either, she’s overwhelmed and would love to hang out with you all day, but she can‘t.”
She made a joke, hugged him tight, and laughed with him for a moment. He was all better. He believed the lie. A lie that she thought she would never have to tell. She had never lied to him before, and had drilled it into her son’s head that lying was a horrible thing, but she had just made up the biggest lie of her life.
A few moments later his step-aunt picked him up. He was fine, and pretty excited to see her, since it had been about a month.
The girl grabbed her cigarettes, a lighter, her new and old cell phone and the car keys. She was off to her fathers house. Fast too. She had decided if she got pulled over by a cop she would just keep going. There was no time for tickets or talking. She needed to get there as fast as her Bonneville would take her, and make a few phone calls along the way. Hopefully after getting there it would be a false alarm, but she had a gut feeling that it wasn’t.
When she arrived there was no parking spots in either driveway, so she parked on the lawn in between. State troopers, the local coroner and an ambulance was there. It was real, it wasn’t a joke, and since the ambulance was leaving without anyone in it, she knew that her Dad was dead. They must not have found him in time, like they had a year earlier with her brother. Her brother had tried to kill himself, but was cut down from his noose, revived and release him from the hospital a few weeks later. The only complications he had was some memory loss, which was never fully regained. This was not the case with her father. He had tried, and succeeded.
Her eldest brother looked blank. No expressions. No talking. He was in shock. He had just seen the most horrible thing in his life, and if her son had gone with his Uncle Shane, he would have seen the same. The girl’s mother and other brother had beaten her there. They must have driven fast too, or maybe the girl had taken longer than she had thought. Oh well, she was there now.
She wanted to go in. After knowing and seeing everything that she had, she still needed to see…to see if it was real. The state troopers refused her entry of the large white house.
They simply said, “He has been dead for at least a day, he doesn’t look good, and he doesn’t smell good. I don’t think it would give you any closure, just scar you even more, and we have to investigate before anyone enters.”
They gave their condolences, a half a hug and returned to her fathers house, leaving everyone to stand outside in the middle of the lawn, in front of a house she had lived most of her life. She understood what they were saying, but wanted to see him. She needed to know he was dead. She needed to know what happened. She needed to know why. She needed to know everything. She had hoped it was fake, that as soon as she walked into his house he would be sitting in his favorite chair reading a book, or working on a project. She knew it wasn’t possible, but had hoped that maybe the dead guy inside was someone else.
The family cranked out cigarette after cigarette as they waited for more people to show up. They hugged and cried for what seemed like hours until the state trooper finally showed his face. He came out with the note. No one had known there was a note. Shane had totally missed it, because as soon as he had seen his father he ran. He ran as fast as he could to the neighbors house to call 911, since his cell phone had no service. Or to two neighbors houses because the first had refused to let him in. The smell of marijuana had given him an idea of why. The note read; So depressed for so long, I’ve reached my limit. I love you all. Dad
Everyone was expecting a letter, not a short note like this. Not much was explained. After all of the commotion had calmed a bit, the body was taken away, and all of the authorities had left, the family investigated a little. Dug for any clue, any sign, anything. In the trash, almost to the bottom, with coffee grinds littering it, Shane had found two more notes. One had read; I love you all. Depression is so d…it was really shaky writing, which led them to believe he was really upset while trying to write. The other read; I love all of you. So sorry. The letters never helped, and nothing was ever found in the house to explain what had gone wrong. He had decided he wanted to take his life, and had done it…successfully. No closure. No hugs. No kisses. No advice. No goodbyes.
On her way home, the girl dialed her fathers number in hopes that he would answer…to tell him the news. After the answering service picked up, she realized the person who had helped her through so many tough times in her life no longer could. He wasn’t going to answer, and she couldn’t tell him of the most